


Sweet Caroline

by TheDemonLedger



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Bathroom Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Quickies, Sex, Smut, Teacher!Haymitch, Teacher!Katniss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDemonLedger/pseuds/TheDemonLedger
Summary: Katniss doesn't have feelings for Haymitch, and definitely isn't attracted to the older history teacher. She's just lonely; it's been a long time, and so any feelings of warmth, lust, or want are just because of her dry spell. That's why she thinks about his hands on her, why she teases him, why they're making out in an alcove after leaving a boring staff party early.





	Sweet Caroline

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi,  
> This is totally out of the usual for me. I had never before thought of this pairing as something I would want to write, but a couple things incited it:   
> I read a line in another store where Haymitch teased Katniss about dating her.   
> I heard the song _Sweet Caroline _by Neil Diamond while packing for my trip.__
> 
> __Basically I had this in my head and couldn't get it to go away.  
>  Back to our usual programming tomorrow!! xx -Olive_ _

Katniss had always hated these functions, and only went because if she didn’t, she’d never hear the end of it from her best (albeit much older) friend, Haymitch Abernathy. They both had a bitter, ‘I-have-better-places-to-be’ attitudes at these sorts of events, even though they really didn’t. Katniss knew all she’d be doing the whole night would be stalking the Instagram of the boy-turned- _man_ back home and watching Netflix with a bottle of white wine and her sister’s cat. She teased Haymitch that he’d, of course, be doing exactly the same thing, replacing the cat for a hand down his pants, and he always elbowed her in the ribs with a soft _you wish, sweetheart_. It was friendly. The heat that built in her every time his husky, pack-a-day sounding voice drawled out the word sweetheart was only because she was lonely. It had been a while - like, Gale Hawthorne before he moved to South Dakota with his pregnant wife Madge five years ago, a while. 

So, reluctantly, she drove to the school on August 31st and waited outside for his beat-up old Buick so she didn’t have to go inside alone. She stampt out her cigarette when he arrived, coughing and clearing her throat. 

“Hey, old man,” Katniss said with a raised brow and a smirk. He waved her away. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied. “How’s summer been?” 

“I’ve been here,” she gestured to the building, “clearing out my desk for the next round of kids who complain every time there’s a pop quiz for a PE class.” 

“Yeah, because even I don’t give pop quizzes,” Haymitch retorted as he pulled the door open for her. 

“Yeah, but you have real papers to grade. I don’t know how to grade the athletes one-hundred sit ups from the kid who wears a trench coat’s twenty. Are they trying just as hard?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, patting her gently on the back. “We know you’re a stickler for fair grading, Kat, you don’t have to tell me twice.” They could hear the slow, low jazz playing from the gymnasium, and Katniss suddenly wondered if her black jeans and graphic tee would be enough; glancing at Haymitch, she saw he wore the same, greying khaki’s he always did, and one of his hundred band tees, and felt relieved at the thought she wouldn’t be the only one possibly under dressed. Haymitch’s hand dropped from her back as they entered, sliding dangerously close to her hips and ass. Katniss swallowed hard at the idea of his fingers digging into her flesh, and tried to tear her mind away from the tantalizing thought as a blonde, slightly pudgy woman about her age practically bounced across the room at the sight of her. 

“Katniss! You came!” said Delly Cartright. Katniss glanced at Haymitch, who smirked and moved away, leaving Katniss to fend for herself with the notoriously obnoxious French teacher. 

“I always do,” Katniss muttered before smiling brightly. “How are you, Delly? How’s your summer been?” 

Delly looped her arm through Katniss’ as they made their way to the drink station, Katniss searching desperately for sight of Haymitch the whole way. 

“Oh, I’ve been great. Thom proposed!” Delly’s squealing voice was overpowering for Katniss, and she winced as she poured herself a plastic cup full of the bright red punch set out on the folding table. Suddenly, she was reminded of prom and felt a sick chill down her back at the idea of it. She glanced at Delly, who was wiggling her left hand in Katniss’ direction, and nodded with a placating smile. 

“I’m happy for you,” Katniss said, forcing enjoyment into her voice. “Congrats.” 

“Well, I’ll let you start perusing, but I’ll tell you,” Delly leaned in close to Katniss, whispering conspiratorially while pretending to refill her glass, “Marvel Johnson just got back from Cancun and my god, that man has never looked better.” She giggled animatedly and stepped away, turning to find that Clove Rigamonti had entered, trucking her infant on her hip and looking weathered. Katniss smirked at the look of desperation that plastered Clove’s face as Delly came careening towards her, screeching her name. 

As she looked around, she spotted Marvel Johnson, who did indeed look like he’d just spent about fifty straight hours in direct sunlight; on the far side of the room was a gaggle of Spanish teachers, including the wife of Beetee - the Computer Science teacher - who Katniss knew exclusively as Wiress, though she was positive she had a real name; the math teacher twins Cato Clarke and Glimmer Clarke stood glaring out into the crowd, speaking in what could only be described as undertones. Katniss was desperate to find Haymitch again, but was stopped by the principal, Alma Coin. 

“Katniss,” Alma said lightly, one hand on her shoulder as she tried to sidle past. Alma was speaking with a rotund man that Katniss’ hadn’t yet met and who immediately earned her dislike by giving her a sneering once over before shaping his features to be more kind. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, our new drama teacher.”

“What happened to Crane?” 

“Well…” Alma said, trailing off. “You knew he had cancer.” 

Katniss’ mouth formed a small ‘ _o_ ’ shape, and she nodded a few times to try to diffuse the tension. “Welcome,” Katniss said to Plutarch as she rushed past the sticky topic. Extending a hand, Plutarch shook it roughly with his own, slightly sweaty one. Katniss wiped her hand on her pants inconspicuously before turning back to Alma. 

“Did you need something?” Katniss asked. 

“Do you have those quizzes finished?” Alma said. “School starts next week.” 

Katniss rolled her eyes internally at Alma’s lecturing tone before she forced a smile. “I’ll get them done, no worries.” She stepped away, far enough that the principal couldn’t reach her to stop her again. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Abernathy.” 

“Of course, tell him I want to speak with him soon! He still hasn’t told me what dates he’s covering this year!” Alma’s voice grew quieter as Katniss quickly walked to the back of the gymnasium where she hoped to get a more combing view, if not find Haymitch all together. She was stopped again by an arm curling around her waist, and as her head fell back on her neck with a groan, she realized the arm belonged to a skinny, brown-haired woman with a slick grin and innumerable facial piercings she couldn’t wear during the school year; Johanna Mason, the shop teacher, softball coach, and most stereotypical lesbian Katniss had ever met. 

“Where ya goin’ in such a rush, Kitty?” Johanna purred in Katniss’ ear. She shrugged her off and poked her hard in the arm. The short-haired woman grimaced at Katniss, pressing the cold cup of punch to the spot. “Ow, what the fuck?” 

“You’re a dork, that’s what,” Katniss whispered. “You seen Haymitch?” 

“He’s over there,” Johanna said, waving towards her left. “How you been, stupid?” 

“Fine,” Katniss grinned. “You?” 

Johanna nodded impressively. “More than good,” she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “You know the art teacher, Cressida? Teaches painting, has that sick-as tat of the vine?” 

“Yeah,” Katniss confirmed, taking a swig of her drink. 

“It really does run all the way down,” Johanna said with a wink, sipping her drink and looking away. Katniss smacked her arm.

“No fucking way,” Katniss said. She felt like one of the teenagers she taught, not a thirty-something teacher. Johanna wrinkled her nose and nodded. 

“Stop abusing me,” she said jokingly. Her tone turned serious, and the humor dropped from her face. “But, uh, yeah. I think things might be real between us.” She cleared her throat. “She’s never, uh, been with-” 

“No way,” Katniss blurted out. “I would’ve thought-” 

“Nah,” Johanna said, shaking her head and glancing around the room. “Her last boyfriend was a total artsy shithead, though, some guy named Messalla who like, jerked her around for a while before she finally called it quits.” Katniss looked at Johanna, feeling infinitely proud of her friend for her bravery. More than Katniss could say for herself, at least. “What about you? Any progress with anything on the boy at home front?” 

“He’s still the boy at home, and I’m still the Katniss here,” Katniss replied, shrugging. “No use poking where I can’t reach.” Katniss emphasized this by - more gently this time - poking Johanna in the arm again. “See ya once I find Mitch, Jo. I wanna hear more about Cressida. She here tonight?” 

“Nah, and I’m actually gonna take off soon - you two wanna hit up Applebee’s on the way home? They got dollar margaritas all week.” Katniss rolled her eyes. 

“Hard pass, but thanks. What’s supposed to go on tonight?” 

“Eh, Coin’s gonna talk about the school and there’s gonna be a moment of silence for Crane,” Johanna shrugged. “The normal stuff, you know. Same stuff as every year, which is why I’m gonna beat it before they make me talk about the softball team that isn’t getting back together until like, early February.” She rolled her eyes. Katniss laughed. 

“I feel you there,” Katniss replied. “We might head out early too, I just wanted to see what kind of shit show it was gonna be.” 

“Well, lemme know if you change your mind and wanna get wasted in the Applebee’s on 45th.” 

“Who’s gonna drive home?” 

“No one, we leave our cars here and get a cab, get drunk and then all crash at my place.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You underestimate my love of _one dollar margaritas_.” Johanna slowed the last three words down to emphasize their importance, then winked. “Go find that old turd and get him to come along.” 

“We’re not going to Applebee’s!” Katniss said over her shoulder as she walked away. 

“ _ONE DOLLAR MARGARITAS!”_ Johanna’s mock yelling made Katniss’ head fall back in laughter, and she walked directly into someone, who caught her around the middle and held fast. 

“You gotta watch where you’re goin’, sweetheart,” Haymitch growled at her. Katniss could feel the tightness in her belly at his tone and looked up. His eyes were a little bloodshot and his breath smelled like rubbing alcohol. 

“What are you doing?” Katniss said, yanking away from him in surprise. “This is a paid function.” 

“Yeah, a paid function where there ain’t any kids to get us in trouble,” Haymitch joked. “Seriously, Kitty-” 

“I wish you and Jo would stop calling me-” 

“You gotta lighten up-” 

“I’m thirty-fucking-two-” 

“I mean, c’mon now, live-” 

“Not a child-” 

“A little.” Haymitch poured a healthy glug of clear liquid into Katniss’ cup, tipping it back up with the dexterity she could only attribute to his years of drinking when she jumped away in surprise. 

“Are you insane?!” Katniss’ whispering tone was outraged, but she could only half-deny that she’d been craving something stronger than sugar-free Hawaiian Punch. Haymitch watched her with a steely gaze, pushing his curly brown hair from his eyes. He winked at her. 

“I heard Jo say something about one dollar margaritas,” he said in an undertone, turning her with one hand on her free arm to face the other end of the cafeteria, where Alma stood on a table to look out over her staff. She could hardly hear the words coming out of the principal’s mouth with the feeling of Haymitch’s hand gripping tight to her arm. She took a long slug of the previously too-sweet drink, practically choking at the strength (and cheapness) of the vodka Haymitch had added. 

“From Applebee’s,” Katniss rasped, feeling Haymitch’s hand slip down her arm to her wrist, where his fingers danced on her palm.

“Better than this shit-show.” 

“Anything’s better than trying to socialize with a fuck-ton of collegues you barely know.” 

“Like sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine and a rom-com?”

“Better than alone with my hand down my pants.”

Haymitch’s fingers tightened around her wrist. “You know I don’t do that.” 

“I don’t know anything,” Katniss whispered, drawing her own fingers up to brush against his. She felt brave, stirred on by the placebo of the single sip of her drink, which she took another long draft from, draining what was left in the cup. She set it on the table nearest her. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Haymitch asked, his eyes all over her. She nodded almost imperceptibly and they both turned at once and slunk out the back cafeteria doors. Once out of the cafeteria, like school children, they walked with haste to the nearest door, but before they could get there, Haymitch pulled Katniss into the alcove of a doorway to a classroom. 

“You have no idea,” he said as he pinned her against the wall by her wrists. “How fucking long I’ve wanted you.” 

“Take me then, coward,” Katniss challenged, her tongue sneaking out to lick her dry lips. In an instant, Haymitch’s mouth was on hers, hot and wet and devouring. Her gasp let him push his tongue in, and he held her by the wrists and kissed her breathless. When he released her, panting for air, his eyes were dark and she could feel his hard-on growing against her hip. Across the hall, Katniss saw one of the single-user bathrooms, meant for staff and a select group of students. She jutted her chin towards it and Haymitch looked around. 

“You serious?” 

“Just go, old man.” She shoved against him and he let her go, dragging her to the bathroom. They threw open the door and stumbled inside, hands all over each other. Katniss’ fingers dived straight for Haymitch’s belt; she undid it, hurriedly unbuttoning his pants. Crooking a few fingers over the waistband of Haymitch’s pants and underwear, she shoved them both down towards his knees. When she licked her palm long and slow, Haymitch groaned preemptively. “You better not.” Katniss said, raising one brow and pointing at him with her other hand. She watched his jaw tense and she wraps her wet hand around his hard cock. His eyes roll a little when she started to stroke, and he pulled her in for an intense, crushing kiss that muffled his soft moan. She pumped him up and down, over and over, with different intensities, pressures, all the while trailing her mouth with wet kisses over his neck and jaw. When she licked and nibbled his earlobe, his hands found her hips and his fingers dug tightly into her flesh. 

“Fuck,” he said softly through gritted teeth. “Jesus, Katniss, yes.” His cum spilled over her hand and wrist, hot and thick and she milked him for all he’s worth until his hand on her wrist stilled the action. “You’re too fucking good at that,” he whispered with a smile. She stuck her tongue out at him and washed the sticky liquid from her skin in the small, white sink while he pulled up and buttoned his pants again. “Gotta get you home.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Katniss questioned, eyeing him in the mirror. “What makes you so certain I want to go?” She finished washing her hands and shook them off in the sink while he moved to pin her against it, snaking his hand down into her pants so his fingers found her mound through her underwear. She rutted against him, fingers gripped tightly to the edge of the sink. 

“That’s what I thought,” Haymitch whispered, pulling his hand out. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” 

Katniss thought their hands must have been tied together at the wrist; their movements out the backdoor were tight and erratic and when they got outside, they separated to run to their own cars. Katniss dug desperately for her keys and the last cigarette from her open pack, digging both out and stuffing the smoke between her lips. The drive was desperately fast, partially crazed; she followed Haymitch’s Buick through the winding streets to his tiny house, where she parked and smashed her cigarette out into the ashtray. Her nerves were present in the sweat on her palms and the way her knees shook as she jumped out, pulling her purse with her. She didn’t bother locking the truck, there was nothing to steal anyway. 

Haymitch’s hands were on her as he unlocked the door, his lips on her neck and her quiet moans taking up room in the doorway. They shoved through the front door, which slammed behind them, and into the main foyer, where Haymitch pushed Katniss against the wall with enough force to rattle the table beside the door. She let her head fall to the side as his lips trailed down her neck and his hands sought purchase on whatever skin he could find. 

“-get you naked,” he mumbled, and Katniss could only catch the latter half of the sentence, but it was enough to have her pulling her loose fitting t-shirt off over her head. She moaned as his hands trailed down her sides and then back up to cup her breasts through her thin bralette. He hummed as he reached back to undo the clasp and let it fall from her, his mouth coming to the soft mounds of flesh. 

“Fuck,” Katniss moaned, her hands going up to tangle in his hair. “Fuck.” 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he rasped against her skin, pulling the bra down for better access to her skin. “Never wanted someone so bad as you.” 

“You keep saying that,” Katniss panted, pulling his shirt off over his head before his lips came suckle one of her pert nipples. “But I’m still half dressed, and I don’t see you-” Katniss’ sentence was cut off by Haymitch’s lips and his body pressed up against hers. He ground his hips against hers, his erection already firm against the line of his slacks again. She moaned loudly, uninhibited by the sanctity of a high school. His fingers found the button on her jeans and undid it, zipping the zipper down as he pressed the tight fabric off her hips. She toed her shoes off and kicked them across the hall as he slipped his hand past the waistband of her underwear and into her slick folds. 

“Goddamnit, girl,” he whispered into her ear. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

“Just shut up and fuck me already, won’t you?” Katniss moaned, rutting against his hand gently. Haymitch chuckled and drew his hand out, eliciting a desperate whine from Katniss, who pulled her legs out of her jeans and shook the bra off her shoulders. Haymitch’s pants fell around his ankles and he pulled his cock out over the line of his underwear; Katniss’ felt a throb of lust shoot through her; he turned her to face the wall and yanked her panties down, palming her ass as he stroked himself. 

“You’re incredible,” Haymitch whispered reverently, and for a moment, the wall of sarcastic jabs and ribbing fell from between them. Katniss pressed her hands against the wall and let her forehead fall against the cold surface, her short gasps turning to moans as he ground up against her. Haymitch let his freehand trail to splay over Katniss’ stomach as he kissed greedily up her spine and lined his erection up with her entrance. Her head fell back as he pushed into her slowly, almost lovingly; Katniss’ soft moan echoed down the hall as he began to pump within her. 

“Fuck, Haymitch,” Katniss whispered, driving her hips back to meet his. He reached down to circle his fingers around her swollen clit, inciting new mewls of pleasure. “So good.” 

“Shit,” he moaned as he drove into her harder. Katniss’ knees were shaking with the pleasure of it, and she could feel the tightness starting to build in her stomach after only a few minutes. “You’re gonna make me cum again, sweetheart.” 

“Yes,” she said, a shot of lust tightening her wet heat around him. “Cum with me.” Her fingernails scraped the wall, leaving light marks in the paint as she felt herself growing closer and closer to the edge. Haymitch’s fingers on her clit made her eyes roll in her head as she hit her orgasm; it was a jerking, popping sort of experience, which left her breathless as his rolled over him too. He filled her tight hole with his cum and let a guttural groan escape him as his hips jutted and his fingers flexed on her skin. He pulled out, their skin sweaty and sticking together before he tipped her head back with a few fingers and placed a wet, slow kiss on her lips. 

“Wow,” he whispered. She nodded, breathing against his lips as his fingers grazed her jaw and down her throat. “That was-”

“Uh-huh,” she breathed. His hot, sticky seed was slowly sliding down her leg, and she pulled her underwear up before it could move any further. “Will you show me to your shower?” she asked. He nodded and kissed her again, turning her to face him. They were both a sweaty mess, slick and sticky. Haymitch toed off his sneakers and stepped out of his slacks, pulling his own boxers back up over his slowly softening cock. He took her by the hand and led her further into the house, their clothes to remain discarded on the floor of the entryway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual, if you liked this story, go ahead and leave a kudo and a comment. If you want to see more of my content, go ahead and go to my dash and hit that fun little subscribe button.   
> If this is the first you've seen of me, welcome!   
> If you've read my works, you know I'm leaving for a trip as of _tomorrow _. If you want to follow that adventure, go ahead and subscribe to this blog: olivetravellingsolo.blogspot.com (you'll have to copy it into your browser).__
> 
> __Love you! Thanks for being great, and stay fucking radical. xx -Olive_ _


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